


Spun Glass

by Ashkaztra



Series: Irrevocable [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Ashkaztra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An almost you can have is better than a definitely you can't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spun Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick little smutlet that took a serious turn somewhere.

The glass is cold and hard against his skin; an unyielding and unforgiving surface. Somehow, though, it feels much less so than Todd does against his back. The Wraith is cold and hard, too, and despite the softer surface, he seems even more unyielding. 

John doesn't mind.

He is backed against a window, trapped between the glass and a Wraith, Todd’s teeth in his neck and his cock buried to the hilt inside him. They are technically too high up in the tower for anyone to see them unless they hover a jumper outside, but there’s still a thrill in the feeling of being exposed. It was an accident, really, their moods simply rising to the occasion, but the tall windows and the feeling of risk it brings adds to John’s pleasure. 

Todd seems to know, pinning John harder against the glass, fucking him relentlessly up against that cold, smooth pane. He is normally a passionate lover, but the situation, and John’s response, seem to drive him to move faster, move harder, and John loves every moment of it. 

He always loves it when they end up having sex, which happens more rarely than they’d like, yet more often than they like to think about. There is something about this, though, about the glass against his skin and Todd’s fingers digging into his flesh where he’s holding him up, and John shivers in delight every time there is a particular deep thrust, every time Todd’s teeth sinks a little deeper. 

If he’d been able to turn around, he’d have an amazing view, he muses, and chuckles silently, head falling back against the glass behind him. Todd gives a low, warning rumble, his chest vibrating against John’s skin, and changes his grip, angling so that he can thrust up deeper.

Making a keening sound, despite himself, John tries to push back against him, but he has very little leverage in this position, trapped between the glass and Todd, both cool and unyielding surfaces. He loves how strong Todd is, how easily he can lift him up and hold him in place as though John weighs nothing. He’s not the biggest guy around, not by far, but any human lover he has ever had would have had problems holding his entire weight up like Todd is. 

The Wraith doesn't even seem to notice the weight, really, his grip on John seemingly effortless, even if the rest of his actions are definitely not. 

Lack of leverage aside, it feels so good. It always does, of course, but the almost illicit feeling the situation has brought out in them adds an extra rush to it all, and Todd is usually a bit too gentle with him, but not now. It almost hurts, but just almost, bringing him right to the threshold where pain and pleasure blur together. It’s when he most appreciates how sharp Wraith teeth and nails are. 

Every time Todd moves, his hair brushes John’s face, remarkably soft despite its tangled state. It’s almost like a caress, though not quite.

Their relationship is defined by almosts. 

Sometimes, almost is good enough, though, and almost doesn't make any difference to how good it feels when Todd pins like him against the glass like that. 

Between the pleasure and the thrill from being held in place like this, John doesn't last that long. He shudders and arches against Todd, biting his lip to swallow back words he isn’t willing to speak. 

Rumbling against him, Todd changes the angle again, his movements more erratic, more frantic. He bites harder when he reaches his own climax, making a rasping sound deep in his throat.

He holds John up for a while longer, pressing him against the window, before setting him down. 

John keeps leaning against the window for a while, catching his breath and letting his legs stop trembling. All the while, Todd watches him with a strange expression on his face, something that could have been fondness if he wasn’t who he was, if they were not who they were. 

The afters are always strange. Not awkward exactly, but strange, tentative and delicate. 

Once he trusts himself to move, John puts his gear back on and tries to put his face on too. He still feels Todd against him, feels his teeth in his neck and his claws on his skin, and it aches in more than one way. 

Every time, he tells himself it will be the last. 

It never is. 

They have an illusion of something, another almost, when they’re together like this, alone with nobody else around. A game of make-believe, something almost real, but never real enough.

Of all the lies John knows, this is the only one he wishes he could believe in.


End file.
